


Well, I'll be Damned (Literally)

by Godspeed_Cowboy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Accidental Demon Pact But Also Not Really, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Attempted Murder, Blood and Injury, Comedy, Crack Treated Seriously, Cult Rituals, Cults, Dark Comedy, Dark Crack, Demon Deals, Demons, Demons Are Assholes, Gods, Halloween, Haruno Sakura is So Done, Haruno Sakura-centric, Horror, Human Sacrifice, Humor, I wrote this for Halloween lol, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Major Character Undeath, Old Gods, Other, Panic, Restraints, Rituals, Sacrifice, Sakura "Oh Shit Oh Fuck" Haruno, Sakura is an unfortunate soul who got kidnapped behind her local waffle house, Sakura is strong and buff but like she was caught off guard what can you do lmao, Sakura regrets going to the waffle house, Strong Haruno Sakura, The Uchiha are bastard demonic beings, Violence, but - Freeform, but not very much beyond a vague sentence about how they beat her up, or rather like 50 to 100 lmao, she did not ask for this, shit goes from 0 to 100 real fucking fast, starts out dramatic first chapter and gradually gets tamer throughout, technically she gets resurrected but she also doesn't really die so, the next chapter is gonna start it up again lmao, there ain't gonna be any romance but if there somehow is it will most likely be inosaku, wtf when you accidentally make a deal with an old god and its people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godspeed_Cowboy/pseuds/Godspeed_Cowboy
Summary: During October, as Sakura's favorite holiday approaches, her life takes a rather dark turn down a path that she hasno fucking ideahow to predict.But old demons and eldritch gods be damned, she won't be stopped from trying to live her life as normal as one can when suddenly thrown into the world of everything unnatural.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Clan, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Itachi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Well, I'll be Damned (Literally)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes the title of this chapter is a reference to Thriller, lmao. I also have a playlist for this fic:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLfogEx07h6j8IhYd9jVxk4mMMD_5DN82j

Sakura struggles against the bindings, bright red ropes digging into the flesh of her arms and legs, screaming, so much so loudly that it hurts just as much as the ropes, against the rag tied around her head and shoved between her teeth.

She kneels in the middle of a circle, covered in runes and surrounded by dark candles, and there’s figures in dark cloaks around her chanting incantations with their arms raised above their heads, hands woven together to connect them all. The candles are the only light in the little room they’re doing this in, and it’s hot, damp, and only adds to the entire atmosphere. 

She struggles harder, tears running down her face, mixing with the sweat and spit, with the dried blood from her broken nose and missing tooth, results from a beating they’d done earlier, before this whole thing. 

Her sundress dress sticks to her skin, the lime green cloth damp from her sweat, and it makes her feel more confined, more inhibited, restrained. She’s missing both of her sneakers and her socks, bare feet scraping against the gritty concrete ground, and her jacket she’d had on earlier to protect her from the fall chill is gone as well, missing somewhere in this place. Her hair falls from her bun, if it can even called that anymore, the uneven strands falling around her head and facing the same fate as her dress, sticking to her forehead.

She is a mess at the moment, but honestly can you blame her?

She didn’t expect to get kidnapped a few weeks before Halloween, her favorite holiday, to be a sacrifice for something she didn’t know anything about. All she wanted to do was get some fresh air, maybe visit her parents, buy some candy for the kids in her neighborhood because there were a lot of kids and she knew she’d need a lot of candy. She didn’t know that she’d get dragged behind the local Waffle House after making a quick pit stop for some dinner and get chloroformed to hell and back behind the dumpsters, so much of it that she didn’t wake up until the moon was high in the sky, or at least they said it was. And although she doesn't quite believe in the supernatural, she _does_ believe _and_ knows for a fact that these people are going to kill her, if the large dagger in the ring leader's right hands was anything to go by.

And plus, Halloween Month, October You always get a weird, uneasy feeling close to and on Halloween, and it only added to the stress of her current problem.

Their hands let go of on another, separating as the leader’s chanting gets louder and louder, and she can barely hear it over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears and her desperate attempts at screaming. 

The leader steps forward, into the circle, and raises the knife. Sakura screams, this time out of fear instead of pleas and swears, and she falls on her side, squirming like a worm, desperate to get away.

She’s yanked up by her hair, and this time her screaming is pained as she'd be forced to sit upright, head yanked back.

The leader trails the blade down her left cheek, the cold steel chilling to the bone, and she freezes, the true fear settling in as the weight of the situation finally bears down on her.

Oh dear god, she’s going to _die_.

She’s going to _die_ , she’s going to be _murdered_ , she’s going to be left for _dead_ in some underground maze and they won’t find her body and they’ll be too late when they realise she’s _missing_ -!

When it goes past her throat, where she thought they’d slice, she thinks that maybe it’s her heart that will be the first thing to go.

Confusion blooms within her fear as it moves away from her chest, and instead goes to her left arm.

The leader laughs, seeing it in her eyes “Oh, we don’t need your _body_ , lady, we need your _blood_.”

The dagger sinks deep into the meat of her shoulder and drags downward, tearing through muscle and bone, and this time her scream is pure _agony_ , spit falling from the gag as she opens her mouth as wide as she can to let out her hurt.

Blood rapidly gushes out from the massive gash, one that went from the top of her shoulder all the way down to the crook of her elbow, going so deep that she thinks it brushed the underside of the skin on the other side of her arm.

She starts to feel dizzier and dizzier, falling to the side, the leader having let go of her hair. Her head slams into the concrete as her wounded arm presses into the grit, dirt and dust getting into the large cut. The blood leaks out steadily into the circle, a growing puddle that stains her dress.

_So this is it_ , she thinks hysterically, _this is it! I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m so, so, so, so dead, so de-!_

As Sakura’s consciousness slowly fades, she witnesses the _weirdest_ thing, or at least the weirdest thing a person like her has had the pleasure of seeing.

The circle lights up, bright red like a lantern or christmas light or stoplight or _whatever_ , and her blood filters into it, filling it up. The light grows, going further and further as her blood slowly disappears from under her into it.

There’s a lot of cheering at first as she struggles to stay awake, but the last thing she hears is confused shouts and swearing.

Everything goes dark as the leader starts to rant and rave about something she could care less about in her final moments.

Sakura opens her eyes and has no _goddamn_ clue _where_ in the _fresh hell_ she is.

She’s in a circle of black candles again, though this time she’s sitting cross legged, minus the weird rune circle, replaced with a solid piece of _void_ , but the room is . . . Different. In a very disturbing way.

The walls, the floor (excluding her little safe patch), and ceiling, all of them were covered with _eyes_. _Huge_ , _red_ eyes with black dots spinning in them that moved around as though they were swimming, squeezing past one another slowly, the only thing separating them being smooth, black outlines. And all of them were looking at _her_.

She screams, falling over onto her back and hands, but she has nowhere to run from them. Nowhere to go, to escape from their gaze, and she shakes.

She takes in a deep, shuddering breath, and then-!

“WH-WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?” she screams, her shrill voice creaking.

She gets no answer. The eyes do not react to her outburst. Her breathing quickens.

And then, from one of the outlines, a thin tendril twists up and out, the tip spreading into five, spindly appendages that were obviously meant to be fingers but looked more like tentacles with the way they bent.

And then it grows, thickens, and then it really does look like a hand, it looks like a whole arm. Muscled, thick, strong, but pitch black, outlined in white. And then something follows, pulled out by the arm it belongs to.

Her mouth goes dry as she stares at the thing in front of her.

A tall figure, very muscled, stylized almost in how it looks, broad and tough, but androgynous all the same, nude but obviously no telling characterics, seeming to have none at all. Upon its head, nothing but one large eye, identical to the ones covering the room. No hair, no nose or lips, just that eye.

Both do not speak, observing each other. Her skin crawls, a shiver racking her body.

She swallows, “Um . . Hi . . .? Nice . . . Nice to, uh, meet youuu . . .?”

Mentally, she slaps herself. She sees some weird humanoid thing and her first reaction is “nice to meet you”!? Who says that!? This thing could kill her!

It tilts its head, and then she startles when it _speaks_.

“Hello.”

It sounds like multiple voices at once, old and young, high and low, man and woman, and every other thing in between. 

It sounds _ancient_. 

She avoids making eye contact by staring at her feet, holding back a grimace at how scraped up they are.

“What is your name, child?”

She debates for a moment before deciding that maybe she should tell this thing her name for her own safety, because she has no clue what it will do in response to “No”.

“Uh,” her eyes dart left and right before remembering that there are _eyes_ on the _walls_ , and she looks back at her feet, “S-Sakura.”

“Sakura . . .” it says, testing her name.

“Yep . . . That’s me . . .”

More silence. She doesn’t say anything, once again because of fear.

After a few minutes, it speaks again, and she’ll forever deny jumping at its voice.

“Tell me, Sakura . . . How would you feel about an offer from me?”

Everything within her stops all at once, her mind blanking out.

“. . . What?”

Once again, she wants to smack herself.

“An offer.”

She licks her chapped lips, wary, “An offer . . . ?”

It nods, “Yes. An offer, from me.”

Now, Sakura considers this carefully. She is by no means a stupid woman. She graduated top of her class in High School, and her teachers had all praised her for being so very intelligent. And currently, she’s been debating on what college she should apply to, deciding that twenty years old was just right to start. And not to mention, she worked at the pharmacy in town, and she usually got employee of the month except for when she did not want to have the title, which was fairly often as she knew that people would start to resent her for it. There is no reason she can see for it just offering something out of the blue. 

It wants something from her, that much is clear. So, she decides to state the obvious.

“. . . You want something from me?”

Which confuses her, because she doesn’t think she really has much to offer to this . . . this weird . . . demonic thingy.

“Clever girl,” it mumbles, before speaking to her directly.

“Yes, I do.”

She starts to get defensive, bristling, and she growls out “What is it? My soul? More blood? Labor for eternity in Hell? Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s worth making a deal with!”

And then she slams a hand over her mouth, paling, realizing that she just said something rude to a being that was very capable of killing her then and there.

Curse her temper!

To her surprise, it _laughs_. Not loud or boisterous, not menacing and powerful, but simply _amused_.

“I assure you, I require no need of you or your soul.”

She squints, disbelieving.

“What I want is a chance.”

She blanks again.

“Huh?”

“A chance. I want to see what you’ll do with what I want to give you in return for your agreement.”

“ . . . Uh . . . Why . . . Um.”

Sakura is extremely lost right now. What the hell type of offer is that?

“You’re an interesting one, Sakura, at least to me. I’ve never seen a human with bright pink hair, after all.”

She feels so out of place right now and so very lost. She spaces out as the being talks about the offer, which was a mistake on her part. Her mind gets caught up in thoughts of “what ifs” and “whys”

“. . . So what do you say?”

Sakura comes back to Earth, and she blanches.

“Ah. Right. The, uh, offer.”

She swallows, unsure of what to say. Should she say yes? What would happen if she said yes? If she said no, would she be stuck here? Or would she officially pass on, leaving everyone behind? The more she dwelled on it, the more torn she became. 

“. . . Sure?” she says, deciding to take the chance, because honestly this whole situation was baffling to her, even if she doesn’t sound too confident with her answer.

She really isn’t.

“Excellent,” it says, pleased.

. . . Maybe she should have said no.

Suddenly, she’s pulled up by an invisible force, onto her knees again, and this time she’s held with her back ramrod straight as her head looks up at the ceiling.

Sakura hears the woosh of flames going out, and she knows that the candles have been extinguished. There is the sound of very heavy footsteps, and it’s followed by the sound of metal scraping against something. Immediately, it sets off alarm bells in her head.

Turns out, she has every right to be alarmed, because when the being steps behind her, it carries a long, white sword with a fancy hilt. 

When it speaks, it sounds pleased, joyful.

“Congratulations, Sakura,” it says as it raises the sword, both hands around the handle, the tip of the blade pointing at the center of her forehead, “You are now a summoner of The Demonic Court of The Uchiha.”

She _definitely_ should have said no!

The sword comes down before Sakura can open her mouth to say that she changed her mind, and as soon as the tip of it meets her head, she blacks out again, the last thing she hears being the sound of metal cutting through meat and bone, squelching and cracking.

When Sakura comes to, _again_ , everything is blurry and muffled for the first few minutes. 

She’s swaying, and there’s something grabbing her wrists and her ankles.

It takes her a couple of seconds to realise that she’s being toted around rather unceremoniously by two people in the same dark robes she remembers seeing before her encounter with . . . That thing.

Very carefully, she does not react, pretends to be passed out to listen in on whatever they’re talking about.

“. . . And I can’t believe he stuck us with garbage duty!” whines a high, femenine voice.

A huff, “Yeah. All because it didn’t go as _fucking_ planned.”

. . . What?

“But I was so sure! I was so sure she would have been a good sacrifice to Amaterasu, to the Lords and Ladies of the Uchiha! I mean, look at her!”

Someone shakes her legs, and she barely manages to hold back a kick.

“I get what you mean, but there’s not much we can do about it now. Didn’t go as planned, we’ll just try again next time! I’m sure there are better sacrifices out there, y’know? And like, we’ve been giving multiple sacrifices so . . . Yeah. Plus, this one’s dead already and even if she weren’t we woulda had to kill her anyways because we don’t want this to get out.”

“Yeah . . . Still, though, _garbage duty_? He knows we hate this! All because this one didn’t bring forth some godly, unholy beings into our world!”

Okay . . . So . . . She was not the first sacrifice, and she won’t be the last, and apparently this is an actual cult dedicated to the very things she accidentally signed her life away to without even knowing what they were. Interesting.

She was _not_ a fan of it, though.

Thinking carefully, she cultivates a plan as she tunes out from the pairs’ chatter. It takes a few minutes, but she thinks she’s got it now.

_Three . . ._

A deep breath in that they don’t notice.

_Two . . ._

A deep breath out, and they still ignore, verbally writing it off as gasses releasing from her body.

_One._

Sakura thrashes her body as violently as she can, surprising the two as they drop her down onto the floor.

Quickly, she rolls up, and gets into a defensive stance.

She should thank her mom for giving her that gym membership a while back. Those classes and exercise were certainly useful now.

The two stare, flabbergasted, before scowling, but she can see the unease in their eyes.

A man and a woman, both plain looking, average.

They have a stare off, and she notices how their gazes drift over her.

The man looks at her left arm, and startles, getting his teammates attention. For a second, she wonders what they’re ogling, but then, she feels it.

Her arm. It doesn’t hurt at all.

Quickly, she trails her fingers over where the wound should be, and yep.

_Nothing_.

She feels just as shaken as them, but she doesn’t show it. Instead, she makes herself look angry, look pissed, draws on her anger from the situation and utilizes it. And she is _very_ ready to use it.

Then they look at her face.

She watches as the colors drain from their faces, as they take off in the other direction, screaming.

She doesn’t move from her spot, quite confused, before she relaxes entirely.

She doesn’t know what they say, but she feels highly unsettled that it was enough to scare them off.

“Well, you bear our mark, of course.”

Sakura whips around, fists raised again, as she looks for where that voice came from.

“ _Ahem_. Hello, behind you.”

She turns around and throws her fist out at the person behind her.

A hand catches it, easily. 

She stops, stares, and slowly looks up at the person.

A pale, young man, with long, black hair pulled into a low ponytail, bags under his eyes and standing a good few inches taller than her. The clothes he wore were . . . Fancy. And outdated, it seemed. He wore a rather old looking suit, dark blue, looking like he belonged more in 1910 than in 2020. In his breast pocket, a poppy, and in his pants pocket, the top of a golden stopwatch peaked out, attached to an equally golden chain.

Her mind tumbles, trying to figure out what a man like him is doing here and how he just . . . Showed up. And what he meant by _mark_.

“Greetings, Miss Haruno,” he says, making her unball her fist so he could turn their grasps into handshakes, “My name is Itachi.”

How the _fuck_ does he know her last name?

She doesn’t have to wait long for an answer, with him continuing his speech.

“Itachi Uchiha.”

It takes a moment for her brain to process the last name, but when she does, she feels much like the two she chased off.

_The Demonic Court of The Uchiha_.

Demonic Court.

Demons.

She’s shaking hands with a _demon_ from the _court_ she’s been _signed_ to.

Quickly, Sakura lets go of his hand, her face red with shame, embarrassment, fear, and many other things as she straightens herself out of her stance.

He looks a little amused at her little plight.

“Now,” he says, “I believe that I can be of some assistance to you, Miss Haruno.”

“Assistance?” she repeats, and then she squints at him, suspicious.

“Yes. You’re looking to escape, correct?”

Slowly, she nods, “Yes. I am.”

“Perfect. Look to your left, please.”

She does.

A red eye with black sclera, bigger than her body in diameter and taking up a good portion of the wall, stares back.

She almost faints on the spot, the only thing keeping her awake and running and making decisions being the adrenaline in her veins.

Adrenaline that was slowly fading.

Sakura looks at Itachi for further direction. He gestures to the eye.

“Now, if you’ll please step in, Miss Haruno, we can carry on and get you to safety.”

She makes a disgusted look, “What? Step in? As in . . . Into the eye?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Into the eye. It’s completely safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Yeah, no. Sakura has had enough eyes for one day. She shifts to the right, away from the eye, frowning.

Itachi does not react, plain faced as he has been for the past few minutes.

Itachi looks behind her.

“Ah. It seems that we have company.”

There’s the sound of several footsteps, and Sakura turns around to see several of the cult members, including their leader, rushing towards them with nothing but ill intent. She pales, knees shaking. She may be strong, but she can’t fight seventeen people at once, not in this state. Itachi hums, unbothered. She begins to ramble, more to herself than Itachi.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit, oh _god_ , oh _fuck_ , oh _shit_ -”

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do, Miss Haruno. But rest assured, I will deal with them.”

“What-!?”

There're hands around her waist then, the barest hint of claws felt through her dress, as she’s lifted effortlessly into the air.

And tossed towards the eye.

“WHAT THE FU-!?”

“Enjoy the ride, Miss Haruno!”

She sinks into the pupil as her world is enveloped in what looks like water but feels like goo. 

She shudders, disgusted at the feeling.

And suddenly, her back hits air, and the rest of her body follows with the shift of gravity.

She falls into a shrieking heap on top of her bed from the ceiling. She scrambles to untangle herself from the sheets, and she’s able to catch the eye closing. Her ceiling smooths out from the bump it morphed into, as though there never was a giant eye there that she just fell from.

She stays still for a moment, quiet, thinking, her heart racing.

“Shit . . .” is the only thing she gets out before her adrenaline fades for good.

She falls backwards onto her bed, clocking out again.

 _I regret going to that Waffle House_ , is her last coherent thought.


End file.
